One Man's Treasure
by anonymous-lemonade
Summary: *Modern AU* The Corona Police Department contracts Flynn Rider as a consultant on a cold case as requested by the mayor. It will lead him on an adventure to uncovering a priceless treasure far more valuable than anything he could have ever dreamed of.
1. Chapter 1: Out of the Box

**Title:** "One Man's Treasure"

**Genre: **Adventure/Romance

**Rating: **Right now it's a T... but I have a funny feeling that eventually it will be a M... we'll see.

**Summary: ***Modern AU*The Corona police department contracts Flynn Rider as a consultant on a cold case as requested by the mayor. It will lead him on an adventure through the mob's den, the world of illegal high stakes poker in China Town, a road to seeing "The Lights", and uncovering a priceless treasure far more valuable than anything he could have ever dreamed of.

* * *

><p>"We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves." -<em> François de la Rochefoucauld<em>

**Chapter 1: Out of the Box**

Flynn's heart was slamming against his rib cages and his lungs were screaming for air. The rush of the bitter November wind bit at his face but he couldn't keep his giddiness down. His infamous Flynn Rider toothy grin shone bright against the inky night sky as his messenger bag trailed behind him like a brown "cape of awesome".

"Rider!" a voice laced with frustration and rage bellowed against the grimy brick walls of the narrow alleyway leading to 5th street.

The thief in question was running so fast it felt like he was flying, his feet barely touching the pavement as he let's a hoot of glee escape his lips before throwing a smug look over his shoulder at his pursuers. "Ha! You should see the look on your faces because you look absolutely-"

His retort was cut short by tripping feet and before he could get a hold of his barrings, Flynn felt himself literally fly across the shadowed asphalt, diving head first into a pile of garbage behind what smelled like a bakery shop; a bakery shop that sold moldy bread, banana peels, and rotten strawberries. He held his breath and tucked in his legs behind the large garbage bin trying to focus on not vomiting, as he heard foot steps receding down the alleyway across from him, heading uptown towards 6th and Buena Vista. "-ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous?"

Flynn nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a whispered voice from behind him. He whipped his head around and saw a girl who looked no more than 16 with the biggest green eyes he had ever seen. She was sitting very close to him with her lean arms wrapped around her legs that were tucked against her chest. A white chef's uniform that looked two sizes too big for her made her petite frame look even more tiny than he assume she normally was.

"Uh..." he started but wasn't sure how to actually answer her before she continued.

"Why are you hiding here? Are you playing hide-and-seek? Because I think it's really clever of you to hide in the garbage; I would have never thought of looking for you here!" She said in a hushed tone that could hardly contain something that sounded like genuine admiration.

"Uh..."

"Oh my goodness... can you... not talk? I am so sorry! That was so insensitive of me to talk to you like you were a normal person when in actuality you-"

Flynn narrowed his eyes at the implication that he was strange, spluttering, "I-I am normal! You're the weird one asking if I play hide-and-seek? Look, kid, I really need you to scram right now. I'm kinda busy." At this rate, the girl is going to blow his 'hiding spot' and then he'll be peeing in public for the rest of however long his sentence will end up being.

"My name is 'Rapunzel', not 'Kid.' And you don't _look_ busy." She said incredulously, as skepticism and curiosity danced in her eyes.

Flynn huffed an irritated sigh before turning back to her and saying, "I'm hiding. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I didn't know; that's why I asked." Rapunzel said hotly.

"Well, maybe you should mind your own business and-"

Before he could finish his heated whispering, Flynn heard barking coming from around the corner of the building and it took him all of two second to curse and then jump out from behind the garbage bin and made a mad dash for the main road. It would be pointless to get cornered behind a garbage bin; his pride would be crush, not to mention the hideous potential background the dirty scene offered the front pages. No, that won't do at all. 'He could loose them in the traffic,' he thought as his fears were confirmed and a large German Shepard with a coat of pure white came barreling down the alleyway with murder etched into it's feral blue eyes.

"Get 'im Max!" came the voice of the captain, who was running after the bear size dog with a dozen or so other officers on his tail. "We got him today, boys!"

Flynn's feet moved on their own accord, as if his body knew the urgency of the moment was far more dire than his brain and it threw his body into overdrive whipping around corners and jumping over upturned trash cans and empty boxes. Once he thought he had even leapt over a sleeping body but he couldn't be sure as monochromatic colors and shadows of the night began to blur with the glow of the crescent moon. Then just when his lungs were starting to protest, Flynn took a left at the next building, hoping that it would bring him to Main Street where he could blend into the crowd of shoppers and fellow Corona citizens. Yet, as he rounded that last turn, Flynn came face to face with a 10 foot fence blocking off the Corona Freeway that glittered with traffic below. 'So much for being cornered.' Without hesitation, he jumped up and began to climb the fence when he felt something bite into his leather boots.

The dog caught up.

He tried to kick the white mass of fur off of him but Max's jaw clenched and with one tug, Flynn felt his other foot slip off the fence, leaving him gripping the fence with his fingers for dear life.

"Let. Go. Of. Me. You. Stupid. Mutt!"

The dog's eyes began to narrow and turn an electric shade of blue. Offense taken, Max bit harder into the shoe, penetrating the thick leather and began to pull back with all his might. Flynn's grip loosen as his fingers grew numb and, before he knew what had happened, he was on the ground, the wind knocked from his lung, his arms, which had instinctively braced his fall, is now tucked underneath him, his chin sore from being slammed on the rough pavement, a his body has been converted into a chair for the dog. It sneered down at him with a complacent look on his mug, wagging his tail as the rest of the police force finally caught up.

The captain, in all his mustachey glory, sauntered up to the pinned thief, reaching behind his back to grab his cuffs that hung from his belt and drawled, "I've been waiting a long time for this day, Rider."

Flynn looked up at the man who loomed over him, with the moonlight illuminating behind him the captain's face was shadowed making his aura more menacing than if he weren't. Flynn wasn't sure if he was up for another night in the cell; tonight was suppose to be his "me time" in front of the tube with a bowl of Reese's Puffs, a cold one, and-

"Rider!"

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am." Flynn smirked but regretted it as Max took this opportunity to sit even more heavily on his back as if to remind the thief that he was still apprehended by a _dog_.

"I said... where is the crown?" The captain snarled at him as he placed the cold barrel of his gun against Flynn's cheek.

Flynn rolled his eyes at the weapon and then proceeded to make sure the crown was still in his messenger bag before he begins to deny all of the captain's claims but couldn't feel anything at his side. He groped around, trying to crane his neck in order to look for what his fingers couldn't find. "No, no, no, no! This is bad... this is REALLY bad."

"What the hell are you mumbling about Rider? Give us the crown or so help me-"

"I lost the crown."

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><p>Rapunzel gasped as a bear sized dog sprinted after the man who, just moments ago, was offering her warmth against the autumn chill. Her eyes widen as she flattened herself against the trash bin hoping that she would not be seen by the dozen or so armed men who followed the dog in suit. When she was sure that they had left, Rapunzel let out the breath she was holding only to cough at the smell of the garbage that surrounded her.<p>

She wasn't sure what to make of the man who had squatted next to her. It happened so quickly, she's a bit unsure if she had imagined him or not. He came off as overconfident and rude despite his good looks.

Her eyes grew even wider at the memory of telling the man her _real_ name! She couldn't understand what had came over her! She didn't even know him! He didn't seemed like a threat but the words of her old caretaker immediately echoed in her mind, "You're too naïve and trusting, Rapunzel. There's no way that a man like that could be anything more than the scum that mucks up the sewers." Rapunzel shook her head in order to clear her mind of the voice that spoke words of haunting truth.

And yet, Rapunzel couldn't deny that there was something in his eyes. Not skirting on the surface, of course, he seemed too proud to let any type of weakness show that apparently. No, there was an underlining bite to his eyes, ones that could only be there through disappointment, abandonment, and loneliness. The look made her chest ache and brought uncontrollable hot tears to corners of her eyes. She knew that look all too well. It was the look she would see when she woke up in the morning and walked past the mirror in the bathroom. It was the look that she saw when she caught her reflection on the newly polished walk-in refrigerator door at the bakery. It was the look in her state ID that left her confused because she swore she had smiled when the plump lady behind the counter said to. Rapunzel sighed as she hung her head. It felt nice to know that someone else felt her pain but it was also an awful state to wish upon anyone else, even if that someone was a rude stud. Perhaps he'll just forget about her name. It was possible since it looked as though he had more pressing matters to deal with besides remembering some stupid girl's name, even though it was her real name.

"Oi, Goldie! Your break's over. Get in here!" A man's voice shouted from the hot kitchens making Rapunzel winced at the sound. Rising up slowly from behind the bin, letting the blood flow into her stiff legs, Rapunzel noticed a large bag with a broken strap lying haphazardly on the ground. Gingerly picking it up, she tucked her hair back before taking a closer look. From the look of the strap, this was not the first time it's been sewn back on and the wide array of patches on the bag itself looked as though the wearer had been using it for quite some time. Turning it around, Rapunzel saw a name stitched messily on the back that read 'Flynn Rider.' The material must have once been very thick but now it was almost threadbare and could hardly support whatever was currently inside of it. Carefully, Rapunzel unzipped the bag to see a beautiful tiara sitting snugly inside. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers as she reached in to touch the glistening beauty when the voice returned, "GOLDIE LOCKES! Where the hell are you? Get your skinny ass in here now!"

"Coming!" Rapunzel said not really recognizing her voice. She had to hide the bag looking up at the street that the man had ran off to. The barking had long stopped and the sounds of sirens could barely be heard over the clanging of ceramic dishes and crushing ice in blenders. Rapunzel began to unbutton her chef's uniform and tucking the lumpy messenger bag under her arm before walking back into the warmth of the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"And this, mister Mayor, is where we bring in suspects for interrogation." The tall man slithered around the table to point at the room on the far left of the office space. The mayor, a jovial man with crinkles around his eyes, smiled weakly at his wife who had been kind enough to accompany him on the tour of the Corona Police Station. The Mayor nodded approvingly and was about to ask about crime rates of late when a loud ruckus could be heard from the other side of the office. A man in his mid twenties was being roughly pushed towards the holding cells by a particularly irritated police officer. The man switched between struggling against his cuffs to winking at the secretary in the front counter, who blushed prettily.<p>

"Don't encourage him, Doris!" barked the officer as he pushed the man in question around the corner.

The Mayor turned slowly back to the chief of public relations who rolled his eyes at the scene and was about to continue with his tour when the Mayor's wife asked, "Who was that?"

The man stopped abruptly before turning to the lady and answered with a smile, "_That_, maddam, is CPD's finest detective, Captain Walter James. He has been with the department for over 10 years now serving the citizen's of Corona with the iron fist of his will and the unwavering loyalty of his heart!" The PR went on embellishing about the fine captain with zest and enthusiasm but was stopped by the Mayor who softly said, "I believe my wife was inquiring about the detainee who had been brought in by the Captain." His wife's nod only confirms the chief's mistake which left him in a pout, as if he were disappointed he couldn't go on about the Captain and his many accomplishments.

"Oh, him." clearing his throat, the lanky man rolled his eyes again before saying, "Flynn Rider: the city's most notorious criminal. He's been caught on so many accounts and charged for everything in the books. You name it, he's done it. He's stolen, conned, swindled, cheated, and lied his way through the world ever since he was first booked at the age of 14. He knows the underground world like the back of his hand and his accomplices are some of the most ruthless and evil criminals this city has ever seen. I'm positive that there isn't a single dark rumor that man doesn't know."

The Mayor's wife looked back at the corner where the figures had disappeared behind before turning back to the man who shook his head in disgust.

"May we please speak with Mr. Rider?"

As expected, the chief of public relations sputtered protests but the look in her eyes were unwavering and, before he could say another word, soon nodded. He excused himself to go and tell the captain that Rider will be having visitors and to give them some privacy.

"Elizabeth? What are you thinking of?" The Mayor asked quizzically, not too sure if asking was exactly what he wanted to do. Perhaps it was best not knowing, especially since the glint in her eyes suggests she may have something devious up her sleeves.

The holding cells were cold and dimly lit which Flynn had always thought to be counter-productive since you would want the cameras to be able to catch every little movement you make. It would make more sense to keep the criminals in a very bright environment where they can be kept under better surveillance and are not obstructed by annoying little corners that were filled with shadows.

"Rider! The mayor wants to speak to you so you better not act out!" The captain said as he saluted the mayor and and his wife before standing outside, as per requested. "I will be right outside the door if you need anything at all madam, sir. If this man makes you uncomfortable or says anything unruly to you, do not hesitate to knock on the door and I will take you out immediately!"

The mayor's wife smiled politely and nodded before turning back to the man who was sitting on the bench of the far wall. With a look of determination in her eyes, she moved to the other side of the cell so that she could get a better look at him.

"Good evening, Mr. Rider. I'm Elizabeth-"

"I know who you are. You're the mayor's wife. And may I just say... you are look devilishly beautiful tonight. And Mr. Mayor! You're looking quite nice, as well. Is that Italian silk?" Flynn said with charming smile.

Unfazed by his flirtatious ways, Elizabeth continued, "I have a business proposition for you."

Flynn chuckled before saying, "As you can see, _my lady_, I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment."

"What if I were to offer you a way out?"

Flynn was silent for a moment, not sure if he heard the woman in front of him correctly. "I'm listening."

The woman took a deep breath, then said in a steady voice, "The mayor and I have an opportunity for you to redeem yourself by completing an assignment we have set for you. You will be allowed to venture outside of the police department. While you will not be supervised you will be required to wear a GPS anklet. The anklet will allow you to travel within a 5 mile radius of your living quarters, which you have listed here in your file as 13370 Magnolia Avenue, Apt. 17. You will be working closely with the Corona Police Department, who will be monitoring your movements. You will answer to them if ever a situation may rise during the assignment. Upon completion of your assignment you will be pardoned for all criminal charges after you complete an additional 10 hours of community service."

Smiling at the prospect of having a clean criminal record, Flynn drawled, "Well, I'm all ears, _my lady_, what kind of business venture are we looking at?"

"A retrieval."

"Ah, then you came to the right place. 'Retrieval' is a specialty of mine. What is the item that you are procuring?"

"A person." She pulled out a file from her large purse and handed it to Flynn, who opened it up curiously. "A cold case. An infant was abducted 18 years go and has since been missing. She will be 18 this year on November 24th. You are assigned to retrieve her and bring her back to us safely."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up. I may have not been clear, so let me "rectify my previous statement". I am in the "item retrieval" business, not "person retrieval business." Sorry, I don't think that you're asking the right person."

Elizabeth did not waver from her stance and continued, "How are you not the right person to ask? You know the in's and out's of the underworld and how they operate. I'm sure that you could send out... feelers to your contact who will be able to give you information on this missing person that they cannot or will not give us. You will have any equipment you need at your disposal via the Corona Police Department within reasonable parameters. My husband and I will be monitoring your progress during your investigation as well, so you will have our full cooperation."

The thief was skeptical but the thought of not having to spend another night in this cell was too tempting to pass up, so he inquired the one thing that had been bugging him since she brought up the case, "How do you know?"

The woman tilted her head slightly at the question.

"How do you know that she's not dead?" Flynn asked not really caring at the moment if the question came off rude or cold.

Elizabeth sighed deeply, the Mayor walked over and placed a warm hand on her shoulder in the most comforting way he knew, without knowing if it was more for his or her benefit. Sucking in a shaky breath, Elizabeth faced Flynn again before whispering, "Let's call it's a mother's intuition."

Flynn was silent, letting the whole situation play out in his head again, scouring for loopholes he might have missed the first or second time through. Once satisfied, he nodded, "So, there's no way I can get out of those 10 hours of community service?"

"These are my terms. These terms are non-negotiable. They cannot be altered or redefined in anyway shape or form. If you are to succeed, you _will_ be granted pardon for your crimes and upon completion of your duties to the city of Corona, you will_ not_ be obligated to help the Corona PD any further."

There was silence again before a voice humbled, "What do you say, Mr. Rider? My wife has proposed for you quite an offer." The Mayor had been completely silent up until then and Flynn had almost forgotten that he was there. Almost.

Tapping his fingers on his chin, Flynn thought long and hard about all that Elizabeth just said before asking, "How can I be sure? That you won't go back on your word?"

The mayor's wife gave him a sad, knowing smile, as if those words told her more about Flynn that he had expected it to, "We can shake on it."

Flynn raised an eyebrow before saying, "Really? I'm suppose to shake your hand and hope that you won't-"

"I respect you enough to know that if I shake your hand, then a deal is a deal." Elizabeth said simply. Her husband nodded that this statement was true and Flynn couldn't help but wonder which of the two actually wore the pants in the relationship.

Without another word, Flynn got up from the bench and strode over to the bars, looking straight into Elizabeth's eyes. They did not waver or blink or dart about in fear, they simply stared back at him with such intense sincerity Flynn found himself intimidated. Willing himself not to look away, he stuck out his hand and shook her's firmly.


	2. Chapter 2: What Fresh Hell

**RATING CHANGED: **M. It took one chapter before this thing turned from a T to an M. ^_^; Sorry about that, folks. Cursing, violence, a bit of gore, tiny bit of innuendo, and more cursing up ahead. I'm serious though, if you can't stomach the semi-graphic violence, skip it! YE BE WARNED!

**Author's Note: **So this chapter is a lot more dark than the previous one, due to a certain scene... and I am almost positive that you have lots and lots of questions. And that's a good thing. There's lots of confusing parts but as a famous character from Fringe once said, "When you get one answer, three more questions pop up." So, I hope you stick with this story. Those questions of yours will be answered. Promise. See you in the next chapter.

**Disclaimers**: This story is a combination of lots of different influences, such as Disney's film _Tangled_, the television show _White Collar_, _Criminal Minds_, and _Castle_, as well as other works of fiction mainly _Diadem_ by John Peel, "Rumpelstiltskin", and the original "Rapunzel" story; my story is an homage to these works. I do not, in any way shape or form, own any of these works; they are used as inspirational purposes in my universe. I gain no profit nor claim ownership of any of the characters or situations in this story... except Jimmy Collins. He's my character. =D In short, please don't sue. Thank you.

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><p>"There are some that only employ words for the purpose of disguising their thoughts."<em> - Voltaire<em>

**Chapter 2: What Fresh Hell**

Jimmy Collins was a fine man: medium build, sandy brown hair, looked relatively young for his age, and had a face that most people would find trusting. He's learned a lot of things during his time in the military, things that he would have never imagined learning in his small rural hometown of Manton, Ca., population 402. He's done enough missions during his tour to be proficient at his job and his job was one very crucial thing: get the evidence on film no matter what. Staking out a joint though is not as glamorous as television shows and Hollywood movies make them out to be. In reality, stakeout work is extremely tedious and time-consuming. An officer may need to watch a target's home for an entire eight-hour shift without a single development. Even small things most people take for granted, such as using a bathroom or grabbing lunch, become risky in an effective stationary surveillance operation. An investigator that leaves his vehicle may miss an important event, especially if the targets know they are being watched.

Collins was not up for a stake out this evening and felt a yawn come on, tickling his nose first before it contorted his mouth into a funny lopsided 'O'. All this month, Vinny Falcone had setup extra meetings with the shipping company to make sure the drop off of their special "golden crate" went without a hitch. His back was sore from sitting in the van for so long and he kept checking under the driver's seat to make sure his bag was still there, just in case he needed to make a run for it.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Collins saw a figure skirt around the corner of the warehouse across from where he was parked in the bushes. Pulling out his binoculars from the glove compartment, he brought it up to see what was dancing in the shadows. His eyes narrowed as he watched two large figures picking the lock on the back door. Grabbing his camera and his pocket knife, Collins jumped down as quietly as possible and maneuvered his way around to the other side of the gate. Pressing up against the thick trunk of a tree, he checked to make sure his film was in the camera before turning around and zooming in to take shots of the scene. The sounds of the clicker was muffled by the boat horns that rumbled out on the dock. The men had gone inside and the light in the warehouse blinked on. Collins took this opportunity to check and make sure there was enough film before turning off the camera. Coming out from behind the tree, he walked only a few feet before he slammed straight into a wall of muscle that seemed to have emerged from the shadows.

Stumbling backwards, Collins cursed out loud as he felt his camera stab into his back when he backed up against the fence.

"Well, well. What do we have here? I think we have a snitch on our hands, Kay." said the eye patched man, towering over Collins like the most vicious looking bear in a pirate get-up.

"Gentlemen. The hell are you doing here? Aren't you suppose to be in some back alley beating the living shit out of a bum? We non-muscle folk actually have important work to do." Collins said, trying to mask his nerves as best as he could. As long as he can out smart these goons, he could get home to his rickety motel bed. He could do sit-ups before he washing up which would always remind him of his father's night time regimen. He could complain to the ugly yellow wallpaper that he's not getting paid enough for the shit he does, like he did every night. He could call his wife and daughter before falling into another dreamless sleep.

But that will have to wait for another night.

"Well, it seems that the boss told us to keep an eye out for a certain somebody. A mole. We've been getting a lot of heat from the feds lately-" Jay said casually strolling up to Collins who tried his best glare at the brothers.

"You think I don't know that? I was there last time their raided Fernelli's. We got so much merchandise there, there ain't no way we would have gotten anything less than 25-30." Collins snapped back at the brothers, who seemed unfazed by his threats.

"Well, if you're not muscle, then why did we find a hot weapon under your seat?" Kay said holding up Collins's gun gingerly in his hands as though it were alive and could get up and shoot him on its own accord.

"What? You make it as if no one besides you fuckheads carry at least one concealed weapon on their persons at all times." Collins said, trying to mask the desperation in his face.

"Yeah, that's true. But no one _I_ know carries a Glock-17. That's law enforcement issued. You know someone who carries this type of firearm, Kay?" Jay asked his brother. Kay grunted before saying, "Cops."

Fear etched in his eyes, Collins thought twice about making a grab for his pocketknife, the wheels in his head spinning out of control, trying to find a way out but was nearly out of options. "How do you know I didn't snatch it from a po-po on the way in today?"

"Well... there's only one way to be sure. We'll take you to see The Madam. No one lies to The Madam." Jay said before headbutting Collins in the face.

Jimmy Collins had learned 3 very important things while he was undercover as a low level mobster for the Organized Crime Division of the CPD: 1) you don't ask the boss about the "golden crate." 2) the mob runs under a different set of rules than the judicial system: you are guilty until proven innocent, not the other way around. 3) if someone takes you to see The Madam... run. And don't look back.

* * *

><p>The hour or so it took to process Flynn's release, the tension in the air was almost palpable. There was a lot of overt glaring involved and complete and utter disbelief followed by murderous vocalizations from the captain but Flynn didn't mind, so long as he got his belongings and was free to go home once the captain forcibly strapped Flynn with his new best friend: The Anklet.<p>

"If you so much as think about cutting this thing, I will have you hanged." The captain snapped before turning around to grab his coat. "And don't think you're off the hook for the crown either-"

"I know, I know. Shessh, Wallie. You have _got_ to lighten up. I'll get the crown back. I'm sure it's right where I left it." Flynn remembered all too well what Elizabeth had told him before she and the mayor departed. "_Oh, and Mr. Rider. That tiara belongs to my daughter. I expect it will be returned to the glass case it was in before you took it, as soon as possible._"

He felt gooseflesh take over his arms at the thought of Elizabeth's cold voice. The voice promised great retribution for not following through with the safe return of the crown.

After being processed and filling out the necessary paperwork, Flynn left the police station without even a glace back. First order of business: Find that stupid bag. So, he sets off down Cota Street, barely noticing how cold the night was. He was too happy (and somewhat anxious) to let the chill bring down his mood. Digging into his pocket, Flynn pulled out a beat up mobile phone. Searching through his contacts, he stopped at a name about a quarter of the way down that read "Hookhand." He shook his head, already regretting the mistake of calling the older man but felt like he couldn't trust anyone else with this information.

It rang 5 times before going to voice mail but before could leave a message, he felt his phone buzz signaling that someone was on the other line. Rolling his eyes, Flynn hung up his current call and then picked up the other by greeting, "What the hell took you so long?"

"Well, some of us actually have a job, Rider," the deep baritone voice answered back, "What do ya want?"

"As a matter of fact, I have a little freelance work that needs to be done discreetly. Are you hooked yet?" Flynn asked smirking at himself as he winked at two girls on their way to the train station.

"Hahaha. You're so clever! I've never heard that one before." Hookhand said in a freakishly high pitched voice that left Flynn's skin crawling. "Look whatever it is that you're asking for, I'm not doing shit for ya until I get my cut from last time! You already put too many of these damn favors on that non-existent "tab" of yers and I don't give a flying fuck if ya got the money right yer hand: I ain't doing shit fer ya until that dough is in my pocket!"

Flynn gritted his teeth, as he hopped on the inner city bus fishing out coins from his pocket. "Fair enough. I won't get paid until this job is over though, so-"

"Then we got nothin' else to talk about, now do we?" Hookhand replied sharply. Flynn sat down in the back of the bus staring blankly out into the street. It had started to lightly drizzle when he got on the bus but now it was coming down like someone took a fire-hose and doused Corona with it.

"Look, for old time sakes, Hook. I really need to get this job done as fast as possible. Do you really think I like owing you for the last two jobs?"

"Eight jobs."

"Fine. Eight jobs."

"Plus the two favors in Riverside."

"Plus the two favors in Riverside."

"Plus the round of drinks that the gang kept paying fer ya."

"That was for my birthday!" Flynn protested.

"Really? Yer birthday was on January 12, March 2, March 11, and May 14th?"

"That's creepy that you remember those dates."

"I've got a little black book."

"You write music in your 'little black book' too?"

"Fuck off, Rider." Hookhand snarled before sighing, "Whatever it is that ya need, ya might as well take it up with someone else. This hand is closed for business."

And that was that. Flynn was about to hang up until he heard something on the other end, "Unless..."

Flynn jumped on it. "Unless?"

Hookhand was silent for a long moment before he said, "Unless you can do something for me."

Now, Flynn was a very smart man. And a smart man would immediately agree to a "favor for a favor." But, as stated previously, Flynn was a _very_ smart man, and he knew better than to blindly agree to anything Hookhand offered, no matter how much he needed the older man's assistance.

Treading softly, Flynn replied, "What does that something involve?"

"A job." Hookhand said cryptically.

"A job? Sorry, Hook, you're gonna have to be _way_ more descriptive than that." Flynn said.

"We're gonna be short one this Friday night. We need a Look-Out man."

From where Flynn sat, there was a couple cuddled up in the front seat of the bus, and an old woman and a bum about half from them and himself but Flynn still felt paranoid enough to speak softer when he inquired, "Isn't Atilla your usual Look Out man? Where's he gonna be on Friday?"

"Baking contest. Said the winner gonna get their baked goods displayed at the Corona Cultural Fest." Hookhand said absentmindedly, as if it was something obvious and not at all weird for a grown body builder to be baking for festivals, "Anyway, you in or not?"

Pulling on the cord to signal the driver that his stop was coming up, Flynn replied, "Yeah. Rendezvous point?"

"Warehouse 6. Near the docks. 11:30." Then a click could be heard from the other end followed by two beeps, signaling that the conversation was over.

* * *

><p>When Jimmy Collins came around, he was sure that he was dead. Everything in his body hurt and his head was foggy from the pain that drummed in his mind. And yet, he felt his fingers move and his legs protest, so at least he's not paralyzed. His was stripped down to his boxers and his back was cold against what felt like a metal operating table. He had been here for a while and he can't remember if he had passed out two or three times.<p>

'This is not good.' Collins thought hazily. 'Why... why am I still alive? There can't possibly be blood left in me...'

He weakly pulled at the restraints that pin him down at his wrist and ankles but they wouldn't budge.

"Now, now, Mr. Collins. We don't need you to hurt yourself on your own. I can do that plenty, _for_ you." came the silky voice of a demon. She slithered and slink her way over to him, latex gloves snapping over her arms. He tried to open his eyes but could only open one half way. The other must have been so swollen over from the nasty beatings his face received from the Stabbington brothers. They take pleasure in that kind of thing.

"What have you done to me?" Collins croaked, his throat dry from hours of dehydration.

"Oh, you know... poked, prodded, dissected, removed... God's realm of work. You of course died but we haven't gotten the information we needed from you yet..." She said casually, coming over and caressing his face lovingly. Then, like a disappointed mother, she chided him, "so we had to bring you back again. And after the third time... I wasn't sure if you were going to return. Each time your heart stopped it was taking you longer and longer for you to regain consciousness. But don't worry, I have a feeling this will be the last time. My patience wears thin after the fourth time."

And with that, Collins heard the whirling of a what could only be a saw-drill. He closed his eyes and dreamt of his little girl, safe at home with his wife, and screamed as the blades made contact with his exposed stomach.

* * *

><p>Flynn looked around the dock once more before moving out from the shadows. He was not in a good mood at all. The captain had been calling him every five hours to check up on him since he got out of jail and it was starting to get really annoying. Especially since he went back to the alley and combed the place for his messenger bag and came up short. That crown could be any where by now and Flynn was becoming more and more desperate. He traced his steps back all the way from the mayor's office to the fence where he got pinned by the stupid dog and couldn't think of anywhere else it could have been. He debated about whether the kid that he saw that night had it but would have felt her swipe it if she did. Although he was pretty preoccupied that night so maybe she did without him feeling it. The thought made him even angrier.<p>

The rest of the gang were situated next to the entrance of a warehouse across from the one they were about to raid. Making sure the security camera pivoted to the other side, he took a breath before sprinting to the other side of the parking lot.

"Thought you weren't going to show. You must be real desperate, Rider." drawled the beefy man with a hook for a hand.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get this thing over with. I have a bad feeling about tonight-" but was silenced by Bruiser who glared at him.

"Don't jinx it, Rider! I hear this place has the craziest security system. Like a... a ghost or somethin'-"

Everyone groaned and Ulf rolled his eyes. "Damnit Rider! Don't you even get him started. You know how superstitious Bruiser is. Last time we had to fuckin' play a game of toss-the-horseshoe while wearin' his custom knitted four leaf clover sweaters and holdin' freshly cut rabbit feet!"

Bruiser looked offended by the thug's tone at his noble intentions but didn't press the matter since it seemed the job at hand was far more important. Besides, he'll probably bitch about it on the ride back to the pub anyway.

"So, anyway, the plan is: Shorty, Big Nose, and myself will take the north entrance and check upstairs. Vladimir, Torr, and Gunter you take out the muscle at the south entrance and check downstairs. Fang, Ulf, you guys keep the vans running a block away. And Rider, you be look out from the roof top. Don't get caught by the cameras! There's like 50 of those damn things all over the rooftops, constantly movin' and scannin' and shit."

"Why am I the only one getting scolded? You guys better not get caught either!" Flynn said shooting worried looks at the rooftops, silently cursing his luck. If he gets caught, he wouldn't know how to talk his way out of this one when the mayor gets wind of it.

"You just worry 'bout yerself and we'll be throwin' back pints before ya know it." Hookhand said, pocketing the map and pulling out his trusty hatchet. "Let's go, boys."

Everyone dispersed into the darkness. Flynn crept around corners and, like a seasoned cat burglar, scaled the outside of warehouse where the cameras' blind spots were. Finding a nice spot to sit down under the witness of moon, Flynn smiled as he relaxed against a vent. A chill went up his spine as that nagging feeling that something just wasn't right crept back again. The thief shrugged it off as the night time breeze and nothing more. Yet, he couldn't help but get up once again just to make sure that the coast is clear. And right as he was about to turn back to take a seat when he came face to face with the security system: a 12' frying pan to the head.

Yeah, that's gonna bruise.

* * *

><p>Flynn's eyes snapped open for a second, barely long enough to take in his surroundings before he felt the dark take over once again.<p>

* * *

><p>In the dream Flynn was having, it was warm. He was basking underneath the summer sun on the hot beaches of Malibu getting his skin lathered with sunblock by a busty brunette with blue eyes. We'll call her Angel. Angel would smile at him as she handed him his beer and then just sit a play with his amazing hair as he sat back and listened to the audiobook of <em>The Tales of Flynnigan Rider<em>. The day couldn't be any better. No beach balls falling on top of him. No noisy kids or screaming babies. No annoying seagulls using him for target practice. No lifeguard kicking him off the beach for lewd behavior when he groped Angel. No, this was the perfect dream. And it was just getting good when Angel leaned in to lick the outer shell of his ear before biting his lobe. He smirked and turned towards the girl when she morphed into a bright green chameleon on his shoulder.

"GAH!"

"Eep!"

"Ack!"

Flynn looked around to see that he was in some kind of room. There was a heater next to him and the warm glow of the ceiling fan lights were on, casting a warm halo over his assailant. His assailant who smelled of wild honeysuckle and spring rain. Letting his eyes focus, Flynn squinted at the light and thought, for a second, he _was_ looking at an angel... except _this_ angel had bright emerald green eyes and platinum blonde hair. Then it hit him...

"It's _you_!"


End file.
